


Is something bothering you?

by RaeNonnyNonny



Series: Assorted Striketober 2020 [4]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Cormoran is learning to use his words YAY, Cormoran putting his foot in it, Ilsa Ships Robin/Cormoran, It’s alright in the end, Personal Growth, R.E.S.P.E.C.T., Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020, Troubled Blood, grumpy cormoran, heart to heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26802358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeNonnyNonny/pseuds/RaeNonnyNonny
Summary: Inspired by the Day 7 Striketober promptCormoran is tired and grumpy at his friends (shocker) but eventually remembers what Robin has taught him and uses his words like a big boy.SOME TROUBLED BLOOD SPOILERS also look away if you don’t want anyone to upset St Ilsa of Herbert, Patron Saint of Shipping Strike/Robin and tbh I didn’t set out to either but I’m sorry, this had to be done...(Mid-Troubled Blood, post-That Pivotal Takeaway Moment but before Robin’s birthday)
Relationships: Robin Ellacott & Cormoran Strike
Series: Assorted Striketober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165961
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38
Collections: Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020





	Is something bothering you?

It had been a long week, and Strike had probably had better nights’ sleep than the last few. As much as he was glad to see his two friends, and he knew it had been a while since he’d visited, his resistance to irritation was low and he could have done without the now habitual needling about his love life, lack thereof and potential for such with his attractive female business partner and recently declared best friend.

He was just scratching the Herberts’ cats behind their ears when Ilsa started on him again. She had taken to complaining how Robin hadn’t joined them recently, how much she and Nick missed her and thought (as they’d surely told him a hundred times, Strike thought) she was SO good for him - and of course his business, that is, she clarified, but not very quickly.  
He wasn’t sure what it was about this particular occasion that made him see red - perhaps it was just a convenient final straw for his tired camelid back -

Strike snapped. “Is something bothering you?” he barked, his eyes glancing sharply at her. 

Ilsa flinched slightly, her eyebrows leaping upwards.

“I’m just -“

“I’m not thick, Ilsa. I know perfectly bloody well what you’re angling at. So does Robin, incidentally. We do understand human behaviour and the situation and I don’t know if you’d noticed but my partner - my BUSINESS partner - happens to be *quite* into psychology. Could you try and lay it on a bit less thick - maybe even, I don’t know, leave us to figure out things on our own?!”

Ilsa looked, if not quite like he’d slapped her, still pretty hurt. She crossed her arms defensively across her chest and her face gained a slightly pale, pinched expression.

Even though he stood by the sentiment, Strike immediately felt terrible. He hadn’t meant to bark at one of his oldest friends and knew painfully clearly how much he relied on her and her husband, both materially and emotionally. Not to mention all they had done to support Robin and welcome her into their home when she was at her lowest, post-Matthew, for which he would always be grateful. He was also aware that they were still raw from their own personal struggles this year, hopes for a longed-for pregnancy cruelly dashed. The least he could do was not lose his temper at her.

Strike took a deep breath and tried again. Even as he had snapped at Ilsa, part of him had already been recalling Robin’s wisdom, angrily imparted, both after their disastrous Valentines row and three months later in a cab headed back to the office. He knew he needed to jump the gun less, communicate more and tell the people he valued - kindly - how he felt about them. He knew he could do better.

“Fuck. Sorry Ilsa. I’m sorry.” He breathed heavily and rubbed his face and the side of his burgeoning beard sheepishly. “I know you mean well - I mean, I know you do it because you - you love me and want me to be happy. I appreciate that. I, ah, appreciate you, Ilsa. Y’know that right?” He looked up apologetically towards her, trying to indicate his sincerity through his expression.

Ilsa looked mollified, but almost more taken aback than after his first outburst, and observed him guardedly. Cormoran was not normally given to unsolicited statements of affection towards his friends, nor, she presumed, to anyone else.

“I think I do, Corm, but thank you for saying it”, she began, carefully, arms still crossed, letting a slight hint of affront remain in her tone.

“Look; Robin...” Cormoran started, noticing how he automatically said her name ever so slightly softer when he was saying it to anyone else. “She’s my best friend. A brilliant partner. We know who we are, and that we’ve got each other’s back. That’s more than I would have thought to ask for and I’m incredibly grateful to have her. As are we each for you and Nick by the way. But we are both adults - I’m nearly forty, for Christ’s sake, and Robin is a grown woman who is finally free to make her own choices. So anything above and beyond what we have now, we - Robin and I - would need to sort that out ourselves, and I really need you to trust me - us - to do that in our own way, in our own time, if and only if we choose to.” 

Finishing his speech, he tickled the nearest cat under the chin and watched Ilsa out of the corner of his eye, hoping he’d managed to make a better fist at mending his mistake than he always did gift wrapping presents.

Ilsa smiled a slightly watery smile at him, uncrossed her arms and reached over to pat his knee.  
“Oh Corm. I’m sorry too.  
And you don’t need to thank us - we like Robin so much, it’s a pleasure having her around as well as you. We just love you both so much. But you’re right - I shouldn’t have kept pushing you. I know how much you prize your independence.”

He nodded gratefully, relieved she understood and he didn’t have to continue to explain himself.

Ilsa paused, tilted her head and looked intently at him, trying to catch and hold his gaze.  
“Oggy, just one question - forgive me for asking, I promise I’ll leave this alone after this. But does she KNOW you consider her your best friend? I mean, have you told her that, not just grunted it at her in Morse code or spelt it out in crossword clues or something?”

Strike exhaled heavily, letting out the tension he’d been holding, and savouring the memory of the accidental whisky-fuelled mutual declaration that still warmed his insides. He smiled gently back at Ilsa, meeting her searching eyes, and said, with a faint note of pride in his growth:  
“Yeah, she does. She... she knows that now.”

Ilsa nodded, then smiled, although she was clearly biting her tongue to stop herself from voicing the multiple follow up questions that had arisen, and patted his knee again.

“That’s all I need to know. Now - are you going to help me finish this takeaway?” She held out her half-finished plate of dhal, rice and abandoned onions towards Strike.

“I thought you’d never ask”, he said, reaching for her plate.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you don’t hate me for hurting Ilsa’s feelings - I just felt like this is the conversation Cormoran ought to have had with Ilsa at one point in Troubled Blood, probably before Robin’s 30th (*swoons*) so that he can breathe a bit and stop avoiding her because he’s so scared of being set up.  
> Please don’t misunderstand me though - I might be pro-slow burn but part of me is very much still looking at gifs of longing looks in the TV series and going ‘NOW KISSSSSS’ on repeat. That’s my life now.


End file.
